A Snowy Day
by PandaFlute
Summary: A one-shot about Marx and Magolor's friendship. They're snowed in the Lor, but Marx goes to venture out and meets an unexpected surprise. *Characters are in gijinka form.


It was the first day of winter in Dream Land. The snow fell at a slow speed. The snowflakes fell with sluggish precision. But its citizens scurried about, carrying rations to and fro. Inside a snow-covered ship, paced the impatient jester, Marx. He became fatigued with the dreary dark clouds that covered the sun. Sitting on the couch was his older friend, Magolor. The wizard was engrossed in the newest book and didn't want to be disturbed.

"Why can't we go outside?" Marx would ask.

"Because, we shouldn't waste our energy clearing the piles of snow," Magolor would answer.

"Hmph!" Marx turned back to his pacing. "I'm sick of living in this hole!" he threw a light arrow into the fire. Sparks leapt from the fireplace, close to Magolor's book.

"Marx, we can't risk our safety if we travel far from the Lor. This is our only abode and we are to stay put until it is over," Magolor spoke, earning Marx's scowl.

"Whatever this ship's bound to be covered in dust by the next hour."

Magolor only sipped his tea and continued to read. With an inward sigh, he reminded himself the Pop-Starians aren't always relaxed as the Halcandranians are. Rain, sun, or snow- an adventure prevails in any season.

Finished with his pacing, Marx became fed up and chose to venture outside of the Lor. Magolor didn't stop him. He would come back, shivering with frostbite. "I'm going out," Marx went to fetch his own cloak from the rack. Pausing at the door, he turned to say, "Don't follow me." With that being said, he slammed the door. Magolor only bundled himself deeper within his own fabric, shifting to receive more light.

Outside, Marx peered through the sun's blinding rays to see Whispy Woods in the center of a winter wonderland. The wonderland seemed dreary to him. Just a bunch of old trees. With chattery rodents nesting in the warmth of the hollow wood.

A chilly breeze swept the forest, forcing him to pull the ends closer to his body. He pulled his sleeves down to prevent his limbs from freezing. Despite being terribly cold, Marx made himself haughty and proud of his stubborn attitude. He resumed his stubborn march, spotting a shiny, red apple. The desire to sink his fangs into the fruit consumed his mind. The red skin peeling off as the cream-colored was crushed into delicious shards. After a few, hard-earned minutes of quietly taking the apple from Whispy's grip.

Next, he made a snowy throne for himself. It wasn't exactly the most comfortable throne, but it'll do. As he sat, munching on the apple, he began to wonder if the dark clouds would give way to the bright sun. If it wasn't for Mag's winter blues, he would be able to throw snowballs, make ice forts, and all the other fun things healthy people do.

***In the Lor***

Magolor finished his book. Satisfied with himself, he stretched his arms. "What to do now?" he wondered aloud. "What would Marx do?" As usual, Marx would resort to hyperactive activity, resulting in damaging the library. He peered outside, seeing Marx curled up on the throne. He began to worry for him.

Yes, he already knew that he was raining on Marx's parade, when the first signs of snow came. Maybe he should go out there and comfort him... _No._ He will respect his privacy. Marx would be furious if he came out.

_Whoosh. _Magolor frowned. _What was that? _A dark shadow flickered by the window. Without any question, he rushed out the door.

***Back to Whispy Woods***

Marx awoke from his catnap. With a sigh, he began his return to the ship.

_Whoosh. _His purple eyes spotted the flicker of a white cape hide behind a tree. _Must be Mag. _Fury instantly rose as he remembered, warning him not to come. He would teach him a lesson or two. But... his didn't have orange triangles. Marx prepared a light arrow in his hand, waiting for the opponent to strike.

He became impatient after waiting for a few seconds. The blizzard blew, knocking him over and off guard. Once again, he saw the cape. This time, dashing towards him. Marx was on his back when the dark shadow made the first strike. He extended his arrow, blocking the sword. Locking eyes with his opponent, he found himself staring into an icy, turquoise eye.

The stranger had a dark complexion. A gold necklace hung from his neck; his mask covered his facial features, save for the eye. He didn't wear much armor, only shoulder and breast plates. As Marx took a closer look, a dark red spark shown through his eye. _Was it magic?_ He was answered with an electrical shock to the body. Marx lay stunned from the effect. The shadow lifted his hand off the chest and stood up to examine his work.

"Tsk tsk. Your species is merely too weak for this..." he said.

"HEY!" He turned his head around to see Magolor standing across from where they were. "Leave him alone!" Magolor cast flames from outstretched palms, seeking their target. The shadow cast his cloak around himself and vanished in an instant.

Magolor's head spun about, looking for him. _Who was that? _He discarded the thought after seeing Marx lying on the ground. "Marx!" Magolor stooped to his knees, resisting the urge to shy away from the stench of burnt flesh. The blizzard began to rage again, making his head spin. _I have to help him! I'm not giving up! _Being as gentle as he could, he lifted Marx's shaking body. Magolor began to cough from the change in weather. He flew on his feet, gliding back to the Lor.

**...**

His eyes snapped open in a cold sweat. Pressing a hand to his forehead, he saw the liquid on his own hands. Then he felt the velvet cushions, on which he was resting on. His blurred vision perceived a white sheet. _...Am I dead? _He kicked it off and discovered he was attired with a different set of clothes. _Am I? _Looking to his right, he saw Mag reading the same book from earlier. Then he remembered the shadow and sat up immediately, on guard. Hearing some low humming, craned his head to see Magolor stirring something steamy in the cauldron. "Soup's ready," he heard him say.

Magolor poured the soup in the dish and sat close to Marx's slouched form. "Drink this," he ordered him. "You're not my boss," the jester retorted. He winced, after raising his burnt arm. "But I'm your friend," Magolor chuckled.

Marx sighed and snatched the bowl from him. He greedily drank it, slurping the contents by the spoonful.

"Ah, thanks." Marx gave a toothy grin.

"No problem. By the way, who was the assailant?"

"Dunno. He had magic, though..."

"You think he was one of them..."

"Dunno..."

"... I'm just glad you're alive."

"... Me too. Why did he spare us?"

"..."

The room fell into an uncomfortable silence as they pondered about the shadow. Unknowingly, he was watching them from outside the window. He turned his head to the left and vanished.


End file.
